


what thou and i did, till we loved

by mirroroflit (volunteer_of_hufflepuff)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 3x19 Coda, Alternate Ending, Angst, Did someone ask for Angst?, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Break Up, Shadowhunters: The Ficlet Instruments, Week 10: Regret, here's some heavy duty angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 23:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20732471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volunteer_of_hufflepuff/pseuds/mirroroflit
Summary: Magnus loves Alexander Lightwood.But losing Alexander - it may be his tipping point, him and his shattered heart.He wants to forget, to erase this all-encompassing pain.Even if it's not what Alec wants..Or: small changes can lead to big consequences. Alec decides to patrol the day after he broke up with Magnus, to try and clear his head, but runs into Magnus instead, who is busy trying to erase Alec from his memories.Angst ensues.





	what thou and i did, till we loved

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> "I regret nothing."
> 
> .
> 
> [the title is from a poem, but directly from a short story of the same name by Cate Kennedy which used the poem as inspiration - try not to get too confused, the short story is also sad and gay]
> 
> so. *coughs*. this is angsty. 
> 
> enjoy!

His magic, vivid and blue, swirls around him, as do his memories.

Memories. Memories of a happier life, of a fool’s paradise.

Memories of Alexander Lightwood, who turned out to have no qualms in obliterating his heart, despite his many false platitudes.

A cool wind whips through his clothes, which reminds him: he really does need to buy a new home: he cannot wander the streets of New York for eternity, not whilst his ex-lover still walks these streets.

One home sacrificed out of a futile attempt to have magic again, for its burn to reignite his chilled hands, another stolen by a man who thought that his spark had gone out.

Had it?

He is drawn out of his melancholy by an achingly familiar shout.

“Magnus, what are you doing?” Alexander Lightwood is walking towards him, decked out with seraph blades strapped to his legs and arrows and a bow hanging over his shoulder.

The memories dissipate like smoke.

“Why would you care?” Magnus retorts, magic swirling between his hands. “You made it very clear yesterday that you don’t.”

“Magnus,” Alexander repeats, his voice cracking, “please don’t do anything rash, I’m patrolling. Ignore me.” He rubs a ring - the Lightwood ring.

It’s a mockery of what they had.

“Well,” Magnus says, “if you don’t mind, I’m quite busy, with my magic and all.”

His magic flares out into a phoenix, glittering gold and shimmering red, in front of Alexander’s pretty face. Let it not be said that Magnus Bane has lost his spark, his drama and, above all, his pettiness, even amongst the wreckage of the sharp shards of his heart.

Alexander doesn’t flinch, something like relief and remorse settling in his eyes. “I’m glad you have your magic back.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Magnus snaps.

Alexander sighs, and shifts away, rubbing again at his ring which glints silver underneath the sparse starlight. “Right. Goodbye Magnus. I regret coming here, I’ll just - go.”

There’s some sort of wistfulness, longing, even pain, lingering in Alexander’s voice.

Alexander shouldn’t be in pain.

Not when he was the one who broke Magnus’ heart.

“I regret nothing,” Magnus says, his voice cool yet soft, “nothing but loving you.” 

His hands dance amongst the frigid blue light.

“Goodbye, Alexander.” The memories are stark as they fall against the dark night sky, the water cracking against the rocky shore below. “Forever.”

"Wait," Alexander says, running forwards, "Magnus, don't do this, I lo-"

Alexander tries to stop his hands with some sort of fanatic grief in his eyes, but they swirl together with a devastating finality.

The magic dies.

And Magnus blinks. “I’m sorry,” he says to the handsome stranger with tears in his eyes, “but, who are you?”

**Author's Note:**

> so. *clasps hands* did you enjoy? let me know in the comments, or kudos, or whatever works for you!


End file.
